


Bound and determined

by LiveOakWithMoss



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2103684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lalwen is a great aunt. Or the worst, depending on how much you know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound and determined

Caranthir was sitting alone by the fire, staring into its depths. Most everyone else but the sentries had gone to bed, as Lalwen wandered by and raised a hand in greeting to her nephew. 

“Still awake?” 

“Aye.” He raised his eyes from the fire and regarded her. She had a coil of rope slung over one shoulder. “It is not so late as all that. But what are you doing, Aunt?” 

She followed his gaze to the rope over her shoulder and said, “Oh, this? I’m hoping to go climbing early in the morrow. There are some cliffs to the west that Haleth mentioned, and I am eager to explore them.” 

He frowned. “You know we break camp an hour past dawn.” 

She smiled brightly at him. “No fear, lad, I shall be back with time to spare.” 

He gave a snort. “ ‘Lad.’ You speak to me like I am still a child.” 

“My nephews will always be my lads,” said Lalwen, crossing over to ruffle his hair. “Even when they are mighty leaders of Elves and Men.”

He batted her hand away. “It is not I who am a leader of Men, Auntie.” His gaze drifted to the far side of the camp, and Lalwen nodded understandingly. 

“Our bold Lady Haleth.” 

He nodded, something inscrutable coming into his eyes, and Lalwen, seeing it, gave a sigh. 

“You’re brooding, nephew.”

“I am not.” He scowled at her, and she laughed, swinging herself down beside him. 

“Come, Moryo. Tell your old auntie your woes. It’s been a while since I played confessor.” 

“I have no woes!”

Lalwen laughed again. “Oh, ‘tis true, in this great land worry is far removed, and naught ever troubles our minds. I have particularly noticed the grace and calm with which you and your brothers have taken to this anxiety free life. Yea, do the birds only sing songs of peace, and the sons of my brother wander merrily in the bright lands of…” 

“All right, enough, you’ve made your point,” growled Caranthir, and dragged his hand through his short-cut hair in exasperation. “The woes of this land I can bear. I do not weigh myself down with guilt like Nelyo, nor do I torture myself with grand ambition and  _what is owed_  as Curvo does. A warlike life is fine by me, it is just – ” he cast a frustrated glance across the camp again. 

“ – it is other woes that trouble you,” finished Lalwen. “Woes, perhaps, of the heart.” 

Caranthir looked down, his color rising. “At times I damn the path that led me to Men,” he muttered, “and worst of all, the female ones.” 

“One in particular, if I’m not mistaken,” said Lalwen shrewdly. “Has she rebuffed you again?” 

“I do not understand it,” said Caranthir, angrily. “What has she to lose by it? She gains, only – status, protection, resources for her people – and do not women yearn for – for the other things, too?” 

“Oh, you know us women,” said Lalwen lightly. “But tell me, of what things do you speak?” 

“The comfort of companionship,” mumbled Caranthir. “I don’t know.” He twitched his shoulders and let out a curse. “Manwë’s bollocks, you know what I mean – A warm bed, a warm body beside them, the promise of children…?” 

“Oh.” Lalwen nodded in understanding. “Those things. Aye.”

“And yet she still refuses me!” Caranthir cast a branch into the fire with a certain amount of violence, and Lalwen laid a hand on his arm. 

“Peace, nephew, it is not so bad as that.” 

“You do not know – You would not understand…” 

A sound came from somewhere close by, and Lalwen glanced up. Pursing her lips, she turned back to Caranthir, patting him comfortingly, if rather distractedly, on the shoulder. “Chin up, lad, just…keep at it, right?” 

“Keep…?” He looked up at her, questioningly.

“Just keep…fighting the good fight. Do your…Focus on your work. Prove your worth. No doubt she will come around.” She stood hastily and adjusted the rope over her shoulder. “It grows late, and my bed calls.” She gestured. “I’m just over there. You should get some sleep too, nephew.” 

“Aye,” he said, and stood, rather awkwardly. “I – Thank you for listening, Auntie.” 

“Anytime,” she said absently, saluted once, and headed off to her tent, located just a few paces from where they’d been talking. 

- 

She ducked through the flap to her tent and her eyes brightened as they fell on the figure reclining on her bedroll. “I am sorry it took me so long, I got caught in conversation.” 

“I know, I heard.” Haleth looked up and rolled over, her bare body shining dark and warm in the low light. 

“You’re a terrible aunt,” she informed Lalwen lazily. 

“The worst,” Lalwen agreed, kneeling before her, a hungry glint in her eye. She ran a hand along Haleth’s side, from breast to hip, and smiled. “Now, where were we?” 

Haleth stretched, arching lightly against Lalwen’s touch. “You were going to find us some ropes.” 

Lalwen unslung the coil from her shoulder and her smile broadened. “That’s right. Now hold still, huntress, and let me bind your eyes…”

**Author's Note:**

> 0\. Inspired by [this](http://stygianacrimony.tumblr.com/post/93801445245) great piece of art. I am determined to write more Haleth/Lalwen. (Sorry, Caranthir.)


End file.
